searching through reflections
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: "Care to tell me what's wrong?" Jace made his way to the sofa, sinking into it as if he'd ran out of energy all of a sudden. His lips curled into a humourless smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."


**Notes: /The title is taken from PVRIS's _Mirrors_ , which also works as a soundtrack for the whole fic./**

 **Based on the ending of 2x07 and the general conflict with demon/angel blood and how the different characters deal with it. This will have a second chapter in which things'll get a little more intense (and which will likely contain smut), but I'm marking it as finished for now, just in case. I'd love to know what you think!**

The front door was slammed shut with enough force to startle Magnus from the book he'd been dozing over. He sat up quickly to check his surroundings, only to see Jace as he came into the living room and headed straight for the stairs. Or at least he would have, normally – he always did – but he hesitated now and it was enough to wake Magnus up once and for all.

"Jace?" he called out, voice cautious. "Is everything all right?" It wasn't; Magnus didn't need a response to see it and decided to try with a different approach. "Would you like a drink?"

Jace made to speak but no sound came out. He cleared his throat. "Thanks."

"Have a seat." Magnus had lived long enough to know what being in shock looked like, but he doubted that Shadowhunters were familiar with the concept. Still, it was enough to give him a hint of what _hadn't_ happened – no one had been hurt. If that had been the case, Jace would have already said something, but he hadn't; he was just standing there, looking far more lost than he had when he'd first arrived looking for a place to stay. "Care to tell me what's wrong?"

Jace made his way to the sofa, sinking into it as if he'd ran out of energy all of a sudden. His lips curled into a humourless smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Magnus said mildly as he refilled his own drink and pressed a glass into the Shadowhunter's slack grip. "I've seen my fair share of unbelievable things over the years."

Jace finally met his faze and the look in his eyes was something Magnus hadn't seen from him before. There was _nothing_ there; nothing that he could distinguish. It felt like he'd been so overwhelmed by conflicting emotions that he'd gone into overdrive and didn't know what he was supposed to focus on.

"It's Valentine." Jace downed his drink in one go and winced slightly at the burn. "He's found a way to capture an angel. We – Clary and me – we saw him on the rooftop and Clary set him free but it was– he _touched_ me and it was–"

Magnus wasn't sure if he said something more after that, too absorbed in the information he'd just received to focus on Jace's stumbled retellings of the night's events. He'd known that Valentine was capable of all sorts of crimes against nature before, of course; after the Uprising and everything that had happened recently, he'd been given even further proof of that. But this? It was far beyond Magnus's understanding. It was far beyond _anyone's_ understanding – Magnus had the dubious pleasure of knowing some of the most depraved corners of the Downworld and he still couldn't imagine anyone who would even think of trying to trap an angel on Earth.

"That's impossible," he said, the words barely audible. "It's not– the consequences for anyone who does it would be-"

"He doesn't care about the consequences," Jace gritted through his teeth, eyes still fixed on the table in front of him. "All he wants is to remove any trace of demonic energy from this dimension and he doesn't _care_ about anything that happens afterwards."

Magnus snorted. "How ambitious of him. Does he really think that one angel can cleanse the world for him?"

Jace did look up this time and he was far easier to read now – the surprise was strong enough to stand out clearly. "You don't know?"

"Don't know what? _Jace_ ," he pressed when the Shadowhunter shook his head. "What is it?"

"If the Mortal Sword is struck by lightning while angelic power is being channelled through it, every creature of demonic origin is going to disappear. It's supposed to be used as a last resort if the demons ever become too much for us to handle, but this is nothing like that. All it's going to accomplish is-"

"-kill every last Downworlder on Earth," Magnus finished for him. Valentine had found his dream weapon, then. The thought itself was enough to make Magnus dizzy. "You realise this can't stay a secret forever."

"Maybe not." Jace didn't seem too concerned. "But I don't think you'll be the one to get it out in the open. You know what would happen then."

"Chaos," Magnus nodded. "Complete and utter chaos. The last thing we need right now." Magnus threw a hesitant glance in Jace's direction and supplied him with another drink. Shadowhunters weren't too fond of alcohol, but it was just about the only distraction he could provide. "You said the angel communicated with you. Why?"

"I don't know. At first he only communicated with Clary, but then he made me see this image- but that's not the point."

"Then what _is_ the point?" More than anything, Magnus wanted to ask what the angel had showed him, but he held back. Jace didn't look in the mood to satisfy his scientific curiosity. "What did he do?"

"He touched me." Jace sounded just as shaken as he had when he'd said it for the first time. "Angels are pure beings. They can barely maintain a human form because they're nothing but a force of good. And he touched _me_. I shouldn't have allowed it."

"I don't think it was your choice to make," Magnus's voice had turned gentle despite his efforts to remain a passive voice of reason and he reached out, one of his hands brushing over Jace's shoulder. "Angels are extremely powerful; you couldn't have stopped him."

"That doesn't make it right," Jace stressed. "You of all people should be able to understand."

Magnus froze. It wasn't usual for anyone to bring up his heritage, unless it was another Downworlder who wanted to know something about his father. Never Shadowhunters, though; they either made their disdain for his kind clear or tried not to think about it at all, but they were too aware of the already present tension between their species to openly talk about it.

He should have guessed that the rule wouldn't apply to Jace.

"I'm not sure what you mean." He was surprised by the sudden lack of warmth in his own tone and so was Jace, apparently - he was clearly confused, narrowing his eyes slightly in a way that - for once - held no threat.

"Alec didn't tell you? No wonder you were so calm about letting me stay here."

"What is it?" Magnus wasn't really alarmed - he was sure that he would have sensed any actual danger - but he definitely was wary, set on edge by the implications made so far.

Jace seemed conflicted for a moment, then looked mournfully down at his drink - he evidently felt that he was going to need it - and started talking.

 **o.O.o**

By the time Jace was finished with his story - which, after he'd described Valentine's actions in detail, had turned out to be quite long - he was more drunk than he'd probably expected to be and Magnus could see that it wasn't affecting him as well as it could have. He was even more agitated now - or rather, he was less capable of hiding it - and the next time he reached for his glass, Magnus didn't bother supplying him with a new one.

"You've probably had enough," he said upon seeing the Shadowhunter's dissatisfied expression. A part of him was grateful for his inebriated state; it was easier for him to think things through without having Jace waiting for his reactions like a hawk. "What your father's done to you is a monstrosity, but that doesn't make you one. You said it yourself - angels are pure beings; unconditionally so. You can't stain them with your blood, even if you tried, and if he chose you to speak to-"

"It was just me and Clary. Not much to choose from," Jace said, leaning back with a fleeting look in Magnus's direction. "Maybe he couldn't feel it. Some of us don't have Marks to identify us."

"There's no way for an angel not to sense something like this." Magnus sounded way more confident than he felt - he'd never met an angel, after all - but presenting it as a fact seemed far more helpful. "And - just a fair warning - you wouldn't want to tell most Warlocks that they should identify themselves by their Marks."

Magnus was well aware that the Clave's database probably identified them exactly on that principle, but by the looks of it, Jace was far too drunk to appreciate the vaguely disguised threat for what it was. "Wish I had one too. That way everyone would have known about me from the start."

"If you had one, very few people would have looked past it for long enough to know anything about you." Magnus's voice was bitter enough for him to question whether he hadn't had too much to drink too, but he wasn't particularly eager to dwell on it. If he did, it would make having this conversation with Jace of all people feel far more peculiar than it did now and he was strangely reluctant to let that happen. "Everyone you care about already knows who you are. This..." he gestured vaguely in Jace's direction, "Your blood doesn't matter to them. That's what's important."

"Is it?" The question would have sounded like a challenge if Jace wasn't as close as he was, looking intently at Magnus as if he was willing him to give him the answer he wanted. "I was sent away from the Institute - from my home - because of this. My own mother tried to kill me..."

The sentence trailed off as Jace's mind caught up with his mouth and Magnus felt a wave of sympathy wash over him, unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome. "It's not speaking ill of the dead if it's true," he offered and Jace laughed. The sound was sharp and unhappy, but it was there, which Magnus considered a small victory. Somewhere in the last few hours he'd decided that the Jace who had been the bane of his existence over the last week - loud and brash and bringing all kinds of uninvited guests into his home - was far less troubling when compared to the one who preferred to drown his sorrows in more alcohol than he'd consumed in all his life until now. "I know you can't believe it now, but it does get better. There'll always be people who'll keep seeing you no matter what runs in your blood, and there'll always be ones who won't ever let you forget about it. You get used to it eventually."

"Liar," Jace accused, the word dripping with enough venom to make even Magnus uncomfortable. He didn't move away, rooted to his spot even as Jace drew closer. "You can't get used to something like that. And you never did."

"This isn't about me." It really wasn't, or at least Magnus hadn't intended it to be. "The society you live in isn't like mine."

"I doubt you've noticed, but I've been preferring the Downworld lately, so it is now. And if it's about me, it's about you too. We aren't that different." Jace looked away, eyes straying to the view outside of the living room's window as he played with a loose thread from the sofa. "Did you feel different? When you first realised. Did you feel like everything suddenly made sense?"

The question itself wouldn't have made sense to most people and Magnus wished he could be one of them. "Not at first. But later - not much later - yes."

"And you're still here."

"Are you surprised?"

"Not really," Jace shrugged. "That's the thing about demon blood, isn't it? You can survive anything."

"You should ask the Seelies," Magnus shot back. "They'd be more qualified for your case."

"Because they have angel blood too?" Jace asked. "I don't think so. They were meant to be created that way. What Valentine did was something completely different. _And_ ," he added after a moment of thought, "they have their Marks too."

"Most Downworlders do. I'm sure your education delves deep into that."

"Of course it does. You can't even imagine."

"I'm sure I can." Magnus guessed that whatever they'd been taught was at least part of the reason Jace was so upset about his demon blood – the oddities that could be found in most demon hybrids were meant as a warning sign; that was the explanation that the Shadowhunters in training had received when Magnus had last checked. They were always something to fear; something to hint at everyone who saw them of what hid under their skin.

"You still don't mind showing yours, from what I've heard." Jace's expression brightened up as it slowly shifted into a sly smile. "Mind if I see them?"

And really, Magnus couldn't see why not. He let the glamour drop, letting his eyes adjust to the usual shift in the colours around the room. The lights from the streetlamps outside were much more prominent and he could see Jace's face much more clearly in the near darkness of the room. It didn't last long; his eyes fell shut on instinct as he saw Jace raise his hand.

The touch on his eyelids was feather-light; gentler than he'd expected it to be but unfamiliar all the same. Magnus had often been grateful for his Mark - not just for its subtlety, but for how effective it was at making an impression to anyone he wanted to scare away - but it had been a while since he'd been so closely scrutinised. The half-forgotten mixture of discomfort and nervous anticipation was what distracted him enough to miss any indication that the Shadowhunter had leant in until he felt Jace's lips on his own, hesitant at first but with growing confidence when Magnus didn't pull away. He didn't react, letting himself be kissed as he tried to think of something, _anything_ , that would steer the situation back into the relatively safe territory of their conversation.

It was a lost cause. It had become evident a few hours into Jace's stay at Magnus's place how he preferred to deal with his troubles and that combined with the desperate desire to find someone who could understand what he was feeling resulted in his frantic kisses now. Magnus finally managed to push him away, holding him at a safe distance even as Jace tried to reach for him again.

"Jace." He was only somewhat surprised by the rough edge to his voice. He could feel the room spinning, even though he wasn't sure of the reason anymore. "This isn't a good idea. If you think this through-"

"I don't want to think anything through." Jace reached up to cup his cheek in his hand and in his peripheral vision, Magnus could see where the tips of his fingers were still stained black with the fine dust of his eye shadow and thought back to Jace's reverence when he'd touched his demon mark; to the fact that he'd come here of all possible places, _here_ , as if he'd been certain that Magnus would have the answers to everything he was going through.

When Jace kissed him again, Magnus didn't hesitate.


End file.
